Clara Weasley and the Young Apprentice
by SafireMustang27
Summary: Ron and Hermione's youngest child has never quite felt like she fit in with her large family. When she begins her first year at Hogwarts and opportunities arise to determine her own destiny, she discovers there is more to being the youngest Weasley.
1. Chapter 1: Again to Diagon

Chapter One

_Again to Diagon_

On the edge of Kent lay a beautiful valley that no villager had ever seen, nor had even tried to explore. It was perhaps because in this very valley, nestled between a calm wood and a large pond, stood two charming houses that housed two very charming families. One bore a resemblance to homes found in nearby Godric's Hollow, with thatched roofs and exposed beams. The other resembled a French chalet, and boasted large windows overlooking the landscape. Through one of these windows a woman could be seen pacing by the fireplace.

"Hugo, if you are not downstairs in thirty seconds I will have you off the house quidditch team faster than you can turn a match into a needle!" The woman with voluminous chestnut hair called through the house. Around her stood two girls who had followed instructions better than their brother.

One of the girls leant against the stone fireplace with a calm expression of familiarity. She had obviously been through the routine enough times in her 16 or so years to know what was to come. The other girl, who was much younger, stood nervously along side her mother, glancing occasionally at the clock in the corner.

"I'm here, I'm here," The boy called Hugo huffed after stampeding down the stairs and landing in the parlor.

"Good. We are to meet the Potter's in five minutes at the Leaky Cauldron so let's get going," the woman said, thrusting a jar of green powder at Hugo and igniting the fireplace with a simple flick of her wand.

"Mum, you know they are always late," the older girl said, not alarmed at all as her brother stepped into the green flames that had appeared after he had thrown in a fistful of the powder.

"Well you know what they say about the early bird, Rose," she told her daughter before following her son through the flames.

"Yes... it's tired," Rose sighed before holding the jar out for her sister, "In you go, Clara."

Clara Weasley was a member of an extremely large, three generational family. Her father had four brothers and one sister, all of who had children. It was also common knowledge that her mother and father were best friends with the famous Harry Potter, a man who had brought down the darkest wizard whom had ever lived… twice. Harry was Clara's uncle as he had married her Aunt Ginny and their family lived in the same valley as her with their three children.

Clara had always felt different from her siblings and cousins, though they all got on quite well. She was the youngest by 4 years and one of the few Weasleys without striking red hair. Rose and Hugo, her sixteen-year-old sister and fifteen-year-old brother, had both inherited her father's red hair. Clara's own hair was a very pretty golden color, however she did not value its beauty as much when it made her feel like an outcast in her family.

"There's our lovely first year!" Clara's Aunt Ginny said after her family had made it out of the grate at the Leaky Cauldron. Her small figured Aunt bent to give her a hug after brushing soot off of her own robes. Two of Ginny's three children stood brushing off their robes as well. Lily, who was Hugo's age, ruffled Clara's hair on her way to talk to Rose, and Albus, who was Rose's age, gave Clara a kind smile.

"Books first?" Clara's mother, Hermione Weasley, suggested, earning an eyebrow raise from Aunt Ginny.

"Well it's perfectly logical, it's the first shop we come to," Hermione reasoned, though her infamous love for books was well known by her family. The group followed her out of the tavern and to the brick wall, where she tapped the bricks in a pattern to reveal a passageway to the busy street of Diagon Alley.

"It's nice when the men don't come," Aunt Ginny was telling Hermione, "we don't get quite as many stares."

Clara was used to others in the magical community gawking at her family, especially her uncle. All of the adults had a part in the downfall of Lord Voldemort, and were now extremely famous.

The group entered Flourish and Blotts where Hermione made a beeline to the Hogwarts reading sections. She gathered two small sets from one pile and handed one each to Rose and Albus. She then moved onto a slightly larger pile and instructed Lily and Hugo to each take a group. Then she finally reached the largest stack and had Aunt Ginny help her carry what looked like 12 volumes.

"These are yours, Clara," She told her as they headed for checkout. Clara's eyes went wide. She loved books nearly as much as her mother, but she didn't know if she could make it through even one of them before the train left September first.

Once the books were purchased Aunt Ginny managed to drag Hermione out of Flourish and Blotts and the lot headed down high street.

"Why don't we break off," Ginny suggested, "Rose and Lily can see Madame Malkin for new robes and the boys can get potion ingredients, not so fast Albus I'm going with you, and Hermione, why don't you take Clara to Ollivander's."

Clara instantly felt a thrill rush up her spine. As she looked up to her mother, she noticed Hermione eyes were extremely watery.

"My last trip to Ollivander's I suppose," Hermione smiled down at her, and Clara felt heat rush to her cheeks. She was nervous about her wand, but incredibly excited to see which chose her. She had been researching the different kinds of wood and cores in her mother's library for the past month.

Clara followed her mother further down the busy street towards the old wandmaker's shop. Ollivander, whom had given her parents and her grandparents their wands, was still making them at 92 years old.

"Good morning, Mr. Ollivander," Hermione called as she entered the shop. There was no one to be seen, except the white haired man in the corner, who despite his age was vigorously polishing a dark wooded wand.

"Ah, my dear Mrs. Weasley, Vine I believe, a very rare wood, 10 ¾ inches, dragon heartstring, slightly springy," Mr. Ollivander recited. Clara's eyes widened ever so slightly. She remembered her sister telling her how Mr. Ollivander remembered every wand he ever sold, but his recollection of such detail was very impressive.

"Yes, sir," Hermione hesitated, before giving the man a brief hug, "This is my daughter Clara… my youngest."

Mr. Ollivander gave Hermione a smile, "I know it must be emotional for you to see your last one receive her wand. You were always gifted in wandlore."

"As is Clara, she has been researching," Hermione turned to Clara, who shyly looked to the ground.

"She has, has she? Very like her mother," Mr. Ollivander said warmly, "Clara, my dear, which wood interests you the most?"

Clara looked up to see him smiling encouragingly back at her.

"I am interested in the properties of every wood, sir, but I believe poplar might suit me," Clara answered honestly. Mr. Ollivander turned to Hermione.

"A Ravenclaw answer if I ever heard one," he said, and Hermione quirked an eyebrow. Clara knew he must be joking with her mother, every Weasley in known history was a Gryffindor at Hogwarts.

"Now miss Clara, let us find a poplar…yes, yes, perhaps, no, longer…ah, here we go! A nice 12-inch poplar, dragon heartstring," Mr. Ollivander pulled a red box off a nearby shelf and handed it to her. Clara felt a thrill of excitement.

"Give it a wave," He encouraged. Clara nodded and closed her eyes, arcing the poplar wand through the air.

The papers on Mr. Ollivander's desk ruffled weakly. Mr. Ollivander was already back at the shelves.

"Maybe another core… Unicorn?" Mr. Ollivander handed her a 10-inch poplar wand. After a wave, she noticed the lamps flicker slightly.

"We can do better," Mr. Ollivander went about handing her wand after wand, until Clara almost believed none would chose her.

"How silly of me," He said suddenly, turning to look at Clara, "Tell me dear, do you understand ironic properties?"

"I think so," Clara said, confused at his sudden change of pace, "Where two unrelated properties work together?"

"Yes, for example," He retreated into the back before reappearing with a dusty, seemingly untouched box, "This wand is made of pear, an extremely durable wood that aids only the kindest and gentlest of wizards, but also the wisest. Its core is that of a phoenix, a rare choice known for aiding only the most powerful. The contrast of the two suggests one who blends well with the average witch or wizard, yet possesses a hidden ability or strength. Clara, I would like you to try this one."

Clara stared at him for a moment. His description of the wand did not sound like her at all. She certainly did not blend well, at least not with her family, and there was no hidden talent she had yet to discover.

"Go on, Clara," Hermione said, her eyes shining with excitement. Clara took a deep breath and took the wand from Mr. Ollivander. It was beautiful, a honey gold similar to her hair and longer than her mother's wand. The second the smooth wood touched her skin she felt warmth spread from the spot. Her breath caught as she waved it in a circle and shimmering gold light burst forth.

"Ah, delightful," Mr. Ollivander's eyes sparkled. Hermione had reduced to sniffling into her handkerchief. Clara grinned; the wand had produced a golden light, the evidence of a perfect match.

"Well then, Miss Weasley," Mr. Ollivander smiled, "Pear, phoenix feather, 12 and a quarter inches, pliant. Congratulations."

"No waving that wand until you reach Hogwarts, young lady," Hermione said later as Clara laid out her wand on the dinner table for her father to see.

"It's a beauty, little light," Ron Weasley said, holding up her golden wand. Her father had given her the nickname little light because when she was younger and playing in the meadow with her cousins, he was always able to find her because of her golden hair.

Ron gave the wand a flick and it produced a beautiful lupine flower, like those found in their meadow.

"Tell dad what else you got today," Rose smirked and their mother's expression flashed guiltily.

"What did you get?" Ron asked unknowingly. Before Clara could answer, a chorus of meows rang out from the living room.

"Oh no, not another one," Ron moaned as Hermione's cat Crookshanks chased a smaller calico kitten into the dining room.

"Oh Ron, she won't even be here for the better part of the year," Hermione reasoned, picking up Clara's new pet and earning a glare from Crookshanks.

"I suppose," Ron mused, looking at the adorable cat as though it would lash out at him any second, "Anyone want to take Crookshanks to school too?"


	2. Chapter 2: Two of a Kind

Chapter Two: Two of a Kind

Clara's last week with her family seemed to fly by too fast. Her father had taken two days off work to spend time with her and her siblings. They spent those two days re-exploring the meadow, playing quidditch (a sport Clara had never been as taken with as her brother and sister), and listening to their mother read by the fire. Hugo and Ron always grumbled when Hermione summoned them all to the cozy den for evening stories, but Clara believed they secretly liked when Mother read. Rose loved books nearly as much as Clara and Hermione, and she and Clara took turns picking out the book.

Clara's last dinner before Hogwarts was spent at her grandparent's house, a tall, charming, and rickety old house called the burrow. As the last grandchild to leave for Hogwarts, she was fawned over by nearly every adult present. Her grandmum cried at least six times at the sight of her. Clara didn't mind, however. She secretly loved the attention. Her older cousins spent time telling her stories (some she had heard hundreds of times) about Hogwarts, including where trick steps were if you were out after curfew, how to get the Fat Lady to let you back in the Gryffindor common room when you didn't know the password, and which Slytherins to avoid at all cost.

The attention started to get tiring for Clara, and she was glad when her mother called for them to head home. She had promised Clara that tonight she would read from their favorite book, _Hogwarts, A History_, no matter how much her father grumbled.

"Let's get on with it," Ron sighed as he collapsed on the love seat next to his wife. Hugo fell into the squashy armchair while Clara and Rose stretched out on the floor by the fireplace. Hermione cracked open the large leather-bound tome to a page somewhere near the middle and began to read.

"It is well known that Hogwarts is made up of four distinct houses. They are named for their founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. No two house is alike, nor were any of the founders. Each house possesses a secret entrance, except Ravenclaw ('I didn't know that, I can get back at that bloke who beat me with a bludger last term!' Hugo interjected). Ravenclaw's is not secret because it can only be entered upon answering a difficult logic problem that only Ravenclaws would be able to answer (Hermione gave her son a look). Famous witches and wizards, both good and evil, have come from all houses, although it is said that no witch or wizard from Hufflepuff has ever turned to Dark Arts due to the fact that they are genuinely kind. Each house has its own quirk. The stairs in Gryffindor, for example, turn to slides if boys attempt to climb the set meant for girls. Bookcases in Slytherin act as doorways to the dormitories and it is rumored that Hufflepuffs reach their rooms through underground tunnels. The beds in Ravenclaw are said to be unique from any other house and fit into the feeling of flight that accompanies the Ravenclaw tower…"

Hermione continued to read, allowing for interjections from her two oldest children and occasional questions from Clara. The houses of Hogwarts fascinated her, she wished there was a way for her to explore all of them…well except maybe Slytherin. She was pretty sure she could figure out the question to enter Ravenclaw, but she wouldn't dare try it unless she knew she wouldn't get caught.

When it was time for bed Clara received a hug from her mother and a kiss on the head from her father. Like a good daughter, she pretended not to notice the tear in her mother's eye.

"Sleep well sweet Clarity," Hermione whispered, "Tomorrow is a new adventure, and no matter where it takes you, it will be magical."

Ron brushed Clara's golden hair behind her shoulders, "Mum and I are so excited for you, Little Light. Go dream of turrets and suits of armor now, because tomorrow you move into a castle!"

Platform 9 and ¾ was exactly the same as it had been the past six years Clara had entered it through a brick wall. The difference was this time she nervously pushed her own cart, complete with her trunk, cauldron and basket for her kitten, which she had named Luce. Rose and Hugo did not stay long with their parents, having left on the scarlet steam engine so many times before. As soon as Lily and Albus appeared, they hurried off to find a compartment.

"Be good Clara," Hermione told her, fighting a few tears as she hugged her youngest, "Show all those first years who the brightest witch of their class is going to be."

"Just like her mother," Ron said, hugging her tightly, "Keep your chin up Clara, you're going to be just fine. Do you know why?"

"Why Daddy?" Clara whispered. Ron knelt down in front of her.

"Because you're a lot like me too. And I was the youngest, the last boy, the one who felt different from my family. And do you know what? If I hadn't been even one of those things, I wouldn't be me. I wouldn't have had the greatest adventure of all time and wouldn't have met your mum. We're one of kind, Little Light."

"Don't you mean two of kind, Daddy?" Clara said, despite her nerves. Ron chuckled and touched her chin.

Rose returned to help Clara load her things on the train. They found a compartment towards the front where a girl Clara's age with chocolaty brown locks and sparkling grey eyes sat.

"Can my sister join you?" Rose asked, making Clara blush and nearly mumble to her sister that she could talk just fine.

"Sure! I was beginning to think I'd be riding alone," the girl said with a cheerful smile. Together the three girls lifted Clara's trunk onto the rack and secured her cauldron so it wouldn't roll mid-trip.

"I'm Clara Weasley, and this is my sister Rose," Clara, deciding to show her sister that she was old enough to speak for herself, told the other girl. Rose raised her eyebrows at Clara's boldness but said nothing.

"I'm Antigone, it's a pleasure to meet you!" Antigone said, shaking their hands, "I've read about your family, it must be wonderful to have so many family members your age!"

Some people would say this same remark to the Weasleys and invoke complete sarcasm. Antigone, however, seemed genuinely in awe of their genealogical luck.

"It is, in fact I'm off to find some right now," Rose said as the train began to pull away from the station, "Nice to meet you Antigone, find me if you need anything Clara."

With that Rose left and Clara momentarily ignored Antigone to wave out the window at her parents, who waved back heartily. It wasn't until the train had turned a bend, erasing the view of the platform that Clara noticed the other girl was not waving to anyone.

"I'm so sorry!" Clara clapped a hand on her forehead, "Did I block you from waving to your family? I can be so one-track minded sometimes."

"Oh, don't worry," Antigone's smile was weaker than before, "My parents left as soon as I boarded."

Clara's curiosity sparked, but she decided it would be rude to question her new friend so soon. For the next few minutes Clara watched as the busyness of London transformed into tranquil countryside.

"I've always wondered if muggles could see the train," Clara thought aloud.

"They can't, I read about it in _Magical Transport: Portkeys, Floo, and more_." Antigone said as she joined Clara at the window. Clara was surprised, but pleased that she was not the only eleven-year-old who knew random trivia.

"I haven't read that book yet," Clara admitted, "I'll have to check it out on my first trip to the library. I can't wait to see if they have the new edition of _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Oh!" Antigone gasped, and rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a beautiful scarlet bound book, "You mean this?

Clara's jaw nearly dropped. She and her mother had been daydreaming about the new edition since Clara could read, as the new edition would include information from the second war. Her copy wasn't set to arrive for another month, and yet here it lay on Antigone's lap.

"Go on, take a look!" Antigone said eagerly, hopping over next to Clara and placing the book in her lap.

"How did you get this?" Clara asked in awe, running her fingers across the gold lettering on the cover.

"My great-aunt gave it to me. She knows the publisher," Antigone supplied. She turned the book up to show her collection of colored bookmarks. Selecting a red one, she opened to a large picture of Clara's mother, father, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. Alongside them stood Professor Longbottom, Professor Hagrid, Luna Scamander, and Professor McGonagall.

"You would be related to these four, right? I read that they are all connected to the Weasleys by marriage now." Antigone said, pointing at the text on the next page. Clara didn't realize that she hadn't known off the cuff that these were actually her parents.

"Ron and Hermione Weasley are my mum and dad," Clara said proudly, watching the awe fill Antigone's eyes, "And that's my Uncle Harry, of course, and Aunt Ginny. They live next door with my cousins."

"How wonderful it must be to have such an amazing family," Antigone sighed, flipping the page to a picture of just Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Do you not have any family at Hogwarts?" Clara asked, then covered her bases by stating, "If you're muggleborn that's great, my mother was too. And it's pretty obvious she's a wonderful witch."

"I'm not a muggleborn and I do have family at Hogwarts," Antigone gave a small, almost bitter laugh. "My family isn't like me at all. I've never felt quite like I belonged with them."

"I can understand that. I bet you never thought a Weasley could be blonde. And it doesn't help to be the youngest either… especially with a four year gap. I've always felt different," Clara admitted, surprising herself that she was being so open with this girl, "I'm worried I'll be the first Weasley to not be in Gryffindor."

Antigone gave her a sympathetic smile, "I suppose we differ there. I'm hoping I'm the first one in my family put in another house. I don't suppose I could stand my cousins that long."

Clara felt a sudden flash of nostalgia, that she knew this girl somehow. It was impossible though, she never knew anyone with the name Antigone. Her admittance at wishing to be placed in a different house gave Clara the feeling that she came from Slytherins however. But this girl was simply too genuinely nice to be a Slytherin.

"I suppose we'll be placed where we're best suited, and that will be what's best," Clara said, more to assure Antigone than herself.

"I hope you're right," her new friend said.


	3. Chapter 3: Sorting Hat Surprises

Chapter 3: Sorting Hat Surprises

As Clara and Antigone were about to change into their school robes, a knock sounded on their compartment door. Before either girl could answer the door swung open to reveal a bothered looking boy wearing the standard first year robes.

"Mind if I duck in for a moment," He said as he entered without waiting for a response. His sandy brown hair seemed slightly mussed and Clara noticed that his collar was loose and out of place.

"What are you doing?" Antigone demanded, clearly as taken off guard as Clara, "What if we had been changing?"

"Well you're not, are you?" The boy replied, peering back out the translucent window. He was obviously more concerned about what he had been hiding from.

Before either of them could speak the intruder made a violent shushing motion and gestured to the shadow that had just appeared outside their compartment. Voices accompanied the commotion in the hallway, voices, Clara noticed, that made Antigone go pale.

"Did you see where that cheeky first year went?" A slick male voice asked his companion, "I think he needs to learn some respect for his elders."

"I think he hid in one of these compartments," Another voice, a girl's voice, replied, "Should we have a look?"

"No, we'll be at school soon. I'll just find him tomorrow, unless he gets sorted into Slytherin," the first voice snickered, "And if that's the case I might change my mind about him."

The three waited until the shadows and voices faded away to speak again. The boy straightened up and turned to face a bewildered Clara and anxious Antigone.

"Sorry about that, but those Slytherins meant business," he told them, "My name's John Ryan Thatcher, but just call me J.R.."

"I'm Clara Weasley," Clara said, observing his face to gauge his reaction. There was none.

"Antigone," her friend replied shortly. Clara realized she didn't know her last name yet. She would have asked if she weren't itching with curiosity about their new companion.

"Are you muggleborn?" Clara asked, and watched as J.R.'s face turned slightly pink.

"How can you tell?" He asked, slightly deflated.

"Well, without being too pompous, you didn't react to my last name," Clara said, taking her turn to blush, "Don't worry, though, I quite admire muggleborns. My mum was one and she is one of the brightest witches of the century."

"Wait just a moment, I recognize your name now," J.R. grew slightly more animated, "The Weasley family, took part in the second downfall of Lord Voldemort about 20 years ago, related to the famous Harry Potter. I read about them when I was researching Hogwarts after I got my letter. You're one of those Weasleys?"

Clara blushed and Antigone answered for her, "Her parents are Ron and Hermione Weasley, best friends of Harry Potter."

J.R. looked at her with mild admiration before turning to Antigone, "And you, are you a Weasley too?"

Antigone gave a sharp laugh, "I wish. I wasn't quite so lucky."

Clara was about to ask her last name when a static filled announcement entered their compartment informing students that the train would be pulling into Hogsmeade in five minutes.

"Out you go!" Antigone rushed J.R. into the hallway, "We better change quick!"

The train came to a noisy halt at the dark platform in Hogsmeade. Clara and Antigone had been rejoined by J.R. as they shuffled with the other students off the train. Clara had been concerned about leaving little Luce behind, but an older student assured her the house elves were very careful when transporting the animals and luggage up to the castle.

"Firs Years! This way firs years!" A familiar voice called over the hustle and bustle of the platform. While the older students scurried off to the right where they were taken up to the castle in carriage, the first years nervously advanced to the left where a giant man with a swinging lamp stood grinning down at them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwart's gamekeeper and an old friend of Clara's parents, boomed over the crowd of forty or so first years, "Follow me to the boats! Lucky fer you lot, the lakes pretty calm!"

Hagrid was right, as the group filed into the boats four at a time, Clara noticed the smooth black lake reflected the lamps at the front of each boat in it's glassy surface. Clara, Antigone, J.R., and another first year boy with dark brown hair and tan skin entered a boat at the back of the group. J.R. introduced himself to the boy and they found out his name was Grant Thomas.

"Righ' then, e'erybody set? Onward then!" Hagrid called out and at once the boats launched themselves away from the now empty Hogsmeade platform.

At first the boat ride was quite eerie. Tall trees surrounded the cove their boats floated through, allowing only the lights of their boats to surround them. The mouth of their cove soon became visible, however, and the gasps could be heard from the first group of students who rounded the bend.

Clara felt a growing sense of anticipation and looked down at her hands as her companions all eagerly leaned forward. She had dreamt of Hogwarts since she received a nearly three foot long letter from Rose five years ago filled with the wonder of her first week at Hogwarts. She had dreamt up images in her head of what the castle would look like in real life and she wondered, and worried, if they would measure up.

She held her breath as their boat rounded the corner toward the castle and finally looked up at Antigone's gasp. The glory of her imaginings could not even begin to match the majesty of Hogwarts Castle. Her heart nearly stopped as she took in the towering turrets, the glimmering windows, and the sheer size of the structure that was now her home. She felt a new sense of anticipation, one of eagerness to explore every inch of the castle and learn all its secrets. As she knew from _Hogwarts, A History_, it was impossible to know all the secrets of Hogwarts, but one could try.

It took them about twenty minutes to cross the expanse of the Black Lake and reach the Hogwarts shore, but it felt much faster to Clara as she attempted to memorize the castle's architecture for later exploration. The first years stumbled out of the boats and up the lawn after Hagrid. It was dark, but in the light of the huge front doors Clara could make out a small figure waiting for them. As they drew closer she realized the figure was a very short man with amusing gray hair and a square spectacles on his pointed nose. Clara knew from descriptions of the professors her siblings had given that this must be Professor Flitwick, Deputy Headmaster, Charms professor, and head of Ravenclaw.

"Welcome, welcome new pupils of the grandest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry there ever was!" Professor Flitwick's squeaky voice greeted them once they had all assembled on the steps of the grand castle. The first years looked anxiously at one another, they were standing on the threshold of the next seven years of their life.

"Before we join the rest of your peers in the Great Hall I'd like to let you know what is about to happen!" Flitwick said with excitement, "You are about to take part in the Sorting Ceremony, a tradition that is as old as the school itself. Don't fret, you will be placed in the house that suits you best. The sorting hat has never been wrong! So allow me a few moments to ready the hall and I will be back to escort you to your future!"

"Quite cheery, isn't he," J.R. smiled, his clear blue eyes reflecting his excitement. He didn't have to deal with family pressure as Clara and Antigone did, Clara realized. He could be thrilled with whatever house he found himself in. Clara felt that the next few moments suddenly seemed like an hour as they waited for Flitwick to collect them. As soon as she saw him bouncing towards them it felt as though a flock of parakeets had been let loose in her gut.

They followed Flitwick through the entrance hall and to the door of the Great Hall. Clara could hear the excited chatter of reunited classmates fresh from summer holidays on the other side of the door. Before Clara had time to settle her nerves Flitwick had swung open the door and was leading them through the sea of students to the front of the grand hall. Clara could hardly appreciate the serenity of the sky-like ceiling above them as those around her did.

"That's incredible!" J.R. whispered as Antigone nodded, she was appearing to suffer from nerves like Clara. On either side of the group of First Years were two long tables, and based on the robes of the students at each table it seemed that Slytherin and Hufflepuff were to the left and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were to the right. Clara felt several pairs of eyes on her from the table at the far right, which did not help her nerves. In front of them lay the staff table where several teachers were seated. The middle chair was empty, however, and its missing occupant stood before them in a long glittering navy robe. The woman had sharp features but a gentle smile as she gazed down at the first years through her spectacles.

"Welcome first years to your new home, I am Headmistress, Professor McGonagall. I will give you a proper welcome once you are properly placed, so without further ado, let the sorting begin!" She turned in a swirl of navy and Professor Flitwick conjured a rickety looking stool and even more rugged looking old wizards hat."

"_What _is that?" J.R. whispered.

"The sorting hat, shh," Clara replied shakily. Hardly a second later the hat appeared to rip at a seam in the middle of its body, though the seam they realized was a mouth as it began its song.

_Welcome Hogwarts students_

_To another year I'm told_

_I've sorted oh so many_

_I'm feeling rather old._

_Let me get us started_

_With an old tattered tale_

_Of the reason of my being_

_And why I never fail._

_It was so long ago_

_When Godric whipped me off his head_

_And said I would decide_

_Where students would make their bed._

_Many were concerned_

_That I was not up to task_

_One such felt misplaced_

_And questions he did ask._

_I told him 'twas not I_

_Who decided his fate_

_But it was his own heart_

_That his home did create._

_And so I tell you now_

_Whether lion, bird, badge, or snake_

_Trust in your own heart_

_That a home you shall make._

With that the sorting hat resealed its seam and sat lifeless on the old stool. The message the sorting hat had given calmed Clara a little. As long as she knew her heart belonged in Gryffindor she would be fine. There was a small nudge, however, that wondered if her heart really did belong in Gryffindor.

"Allen, Jordan." Professor Flitwick called and the sorting officially began. A small boy walked nervously forward, and for a moment Clara was glad she was at the end of the alphabet. The hat was placed on his head as soon as he sat and after a few moments, shouted…

"HUFFLEPUFF."

The table to their left erupted into cheers as Jordan joined them, relieved. One by one their number shrunk as students were sorted, some happily, some surprisingly, into their new houses. By the time they reached the N's Clara was wondering why she had been happy about being at the end of the alphabet as her nerves attacked with renewed fervor.

"Nance, Lydia" became a Ravenclaw when Clara looked over to see Antigone looked worse off than she did. She was positively shaking.

"It's ok Antigone, you'll be fine," Clara assured her as "Nutt, Veronica" became a Hufflepuff. Antigone gave her a quick pained look before avoiding her gaze as the next name was called.

"Malfoy, Persephone" was called and Clara immediately felt guarded. She didn't know there were anymore Malfoy's left, she had heard Scorpius was still as horrible as his parents from her siblings and cousins.

When Antigone took a deep breath and stepped forward from next to her, Clara was confused at first. Clearly she must have misheard the name.

Then it dawned on her like a cold pitcher of water, leaving her in shock. No wonder Antigone had not given her last name, or real first name for that matter, when she had met Clara on the train. At first Clara felt betrayed by her new friend, but then she realized that Antigone must not want to be associated with her family. Had she not told Clara that she was ashamed of her family? She had certainly seemed jealous of Clara's happy, famous family. Antigone's family did not seem happy, and was clearly infamous.

Clara realized that while she had been debating this in her head, Antigone had been on the stool a long time. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be concentrating intently. She had heard from her cousin Albus that the sorting hat often has discussions with students who could do well in two different houses.

"What's going on?" J.R. whispered to her. Clearly Antigone was taking longer than any of the previous first years. The Slytherins were downright staring at here with a collective determination.

"She's trying to talk her way out of Slytherin." Clara realized aloud. J.R. stared at her in surprise for a moment.

"Slytherin? Really? She doesn't seem like a Slytherin to me," He said, clearly surprised. He obviously didn't associate her with the older bullies, Clara realized they must have been Antigone's relatives, on the train.

"She's a Malfoy," Clara whispered, "I don't think there has ever been a Malfoy not in Slytherin."

"Kind of like your family and Gryffindor then?" He whispered back. It was just Clara's luck that a muggleborn would know her family dynasty and not the Malfoy's.

"Yes." She said between her teeth. Before they could say anything else the sorting had cleared its, well, throat, and opened to shout…

"RAVENCLAW."

Antigone grinned despite the loud protests from the Slytherin table. Clara was happy for the girl as she skipped down to a slightly bewildered Ravenclaw table. Despite their surprise, a few students clapped Antigone on the back and welcomed her in the true spirit of acceptance, a characteristic Ravenclaws were known for.

"Good for her," J.R. said, obviously relieved his new friend wasn't a Slytherin, "I was hoping for Ravenclaw myself, after researching the houses a bit."

Clara nodded, but now that Antigone's fate had been decided her nerves were back in full swing. She waited anxiously until it was J.R.'s turn.

"Thatcher, John," Called Flitwick. J.R. appeared to brace himself, gave a mini salute to Clara, and strode determinedly up the steps. The hat was hardly on his head before it shouted…

"RAVENCLAW."

J.R. grinned and hurried to join a madly clapping Antigone at the table to the right. Now that her only two friends were in Ravenclaw, her determination to be a Gryffindor seemed to be slipping a little. Her family might be there, but they were all so much older. Of course, if she weren't in Gryffindor her family would be so disappointed; after all, there had never been a Weasley not in Gryffindor.

"Victor, Edmund" became a Slytherin and suddenly it was Clara's turn. She felt all eyes on her, sure of her Gryffindor fate, as she climbed the stair when Flitwick called, "Weasley, Clarity."

As soon as the hat was on her head she heard its voice in her ear.

_Ahh another Weasley, yet different from the others. Not just in appearance dearie, no… your mind is so like your mother's mind. And she was almost not in Gryffindor, yet she had a destiny there, yes… but tell me Miss Clara, do you think your destiny lies in fitting in with your family? I can put you with them and nothing will change… or do you wish to follow your own destiny… become Clara and not just another Weasley…_

Clara couldn't tell what the sorting hat was telling her. But she knew what her heart would answer, and opened her eyes to find her family in the crowd of Gryffindors, dreading their reaction as the hat opened its brim to shout…

"RAVENCLAW."


	4. Chapter 4: The Misfit Family

Chapter 4: The Misfit Family

The whole hall was silent for a few moments after the sorting hat's declaration. Clara felt her face burn as everyone stared. Just as J.R. had known, everyone knew her family's reputation. The faces of her siblings and cousins registered shock, and it wasn't until the Ravenclaw table absolutely erupted into cheers and applause that Clara felt like she had made the right choice.

As Clara approached, several students came forward to embrace her, clap her shoulder, and welcome her into the Ravenclaw house. She could hear several shouting "We got a Weasley!" and "A trio's kid!" "No Ned, TWO trio's kid!" Clara tried to smile back, but it wasn't until Antigone reached out and hugged her that she was able to really be happy. J.R. patted her on the back and she took a seat in between them. She had friends, friends her age, and despite the fact that her family was looking on from the next table over, she finally felt at home.

It turned out that Clara had been the last first year to be sorted and Professor McGonagall had taken to the platform once more.

"Well now that our houses are complete, let us get down to business. Before the feast let me remind you all of a few rules," groans came from a few corners of the hall, to which McGonagall smiled, "I promise I won't keep you from your dinner much longer. A reminder as always that the forbidden forest is just that, forbidden, unless accompanied by a teacher on school business. The house captains will set the tryouts for Quidditch teams for the week following the first year's first flying lesson. The Hall of Heroes on the seventh floor is closed temporarily until Mr. Filch can finish removing the remnants of last's years Seventh Year prank…"

Numerous snickers rang out in the hall and McGonagall looked at the group sternly, "Let me remind the current seventh years that I have the authority to take away any N.E.W.T.s you might have earned after this year following a prank like that. If you don't believe me ask last years group."

The snickers stopped and everyone once again listened attentively to Professor McGonagall.

"Time tables with class schedules will be handed out tomorrow at breakfast. I would ask that First Years wait and follow their prefects to their houses following tonight's feast. Thank you, and dig in!"

J.R. let out a short shout as a stout kidney pie suddenly appeared on the platter in front of him. Clara and Antigone laughed as they dug in to the pile of turkey legs in front of them.

"Magic is amazing!" J.R. exclaimed happily. Across from them sat another first year and two third years.

"Hello, I'm Lorcan Scamander, you might not remember me Clara but…"

"Oh, yes! Lorcan! Sorry I didn't recognize you at first, still a little frazzled I suppose," Clara rambled to the third year on the right, one of the sons of her parents' friend Luna Scamander. She had been a Ravenclaw and Clara thought she remembered hearing that her sons were as well. Clara had met them at several family gatherings, but they had been at school for the more recent ones.

"I suppose you are," He said, swinging his long white-blonde hair out of his eyes, "But we're very glad to have you in Ravenclaw!"

"I suppose I'm glad to be here," Clara replied. The first year girl sitting next to Lorcan smiled at her.

"I'm Lydia," She said, and then turned to the girl next to her, another third year, "And this is my sister Mia."

"It's nice to meet you both," Clara said.

"We've heard a lot about your family, its cool that we get to be in the same year," Lydia said, somewhat shyly. Antigone seemed to shrink back a little and Clara suddenly felt for her friend. At least Clara's family was famous for something good, but Antigone had to deal with her family's famous mistakes.

Lydia seemed to notice Antigone as well, and to Clara's relief addressed her as well, "And what was your name? Persephone?"

"It is, but I go by Antigone," The brunette said softly. The name suddenly hit Clara, and she was surprised she hadn't seen it before. Apparently Lydia had figured it out much quicker.

"Oh wow! I love that story, and I suppose you picked your name because it means 'against ones family'? You don't seem like a Malfoy to me," Lydia said kindly.

"Thank you," Antigone smiled, obviously happy she wasn't being persecuted just yet, "And actually, my great-aunt Andromeda nicknamed me when I was little, I didn't realize its significance until I was seven or eight. But she basically raised me in the summer when I wasn't at boarding school."

"Andromeda Tonks is your great-aunt?"

"You went to boarding school before Hogwarts?"

Clara and Lydia's questions were simultaneous and equally bewildered. Antigone laughed.

"Yes, Clara, she is my great-aunt and Teddy is my second cousin. I heard so many stories about you all from him when he stayed with her," Antigone answered Clara first. Teddy Lupin, Andromeda's grandson, was almost like Clara's cousin, as he spent a lot of his time with the Potters being Harry's godson.

"And Lydia, I did attend a private boarding school from the time I was six. It was in France and specifically for wealthy wizarding kids. Your parents wouldn't send you there of course because most parents love their kids too much to send them away that early," Antigone said this matter-a-factly and did not seem bothered that her parents obviously did not love her as much.

"So," Lydia hemmed, "Do you speak French then?"

Clara almost laughed at the girl's attempt to sway the awkwardness. It worked however and Antigone laughed.

"Yes I do! They almost sent me to Beauxbatons, I'm so glad they didn't," She sighed, "The French are just so dramatic."

The group laughed, and being intelligent Ravenclaws, a few of them noticed the irony with humor.

At the end of the feast the tables were cleared and students began to rise from their tables. Clara tried to stay close to Antigone, J.R., and Lydia as they grouped with the other first year Ravenclaws, there being around twelve of them.

"Clara!" A voice called from her left. She looked over to see a distressed Rose, making her slightly queasy. She had forgotten about the downside to her sorting.

Rose kneeled on the bench on the other side of the Ravenclaw table and leaned her long torso across it towards Clara.

"Clara are you all right? We've been so worried." The older girl said, making Clara's gut twist.

"I'm ok, really Rose," Clara assured her sister, "I just hope you aren't upset with me."

"Oh come on Clara, why would we be upset?" Rose said gently, and Clara felt a glimmer of hope.

"Its not your fault you were sorted into Ravenclaw," Rose didn't mean it to sound the way it did, but the hope Clara had just felt suddenly plummeted and she begged her eyes not to tear.

"Oh Clara! Don't be upset. Maybe you'll end up liking it!" Rose said, thinking she was reassuring her distraught sister.

"I know. I need to go Rose." Clara said, taking a deep breath and hurrying off to catch up with Antigone and the rest of the Ravenclaws. When she reached her friends she tried to hide her emotions, but Antigone knew. She was probably dealing with just the opposite of what Clara was, but she could understand her plight.

"We're pioneers, you and me," Antigone told her as they hung in the back of the group with J.R., "We're going to see something no one in either of our families have seen."

Clara smiled as she realized Antigone was right. She was the first Weasley Ravenclaw. No one in her family knew the Ravenclaw secrets, and that made her special.

"Hey, what about me? I'm the first wizard in my family period!" J.R. said, "I'm a pioneer too!"

"Ok, so we're the three pioneers!" Clara declared, feeling much better than she had a few moments ago.

"The muggleborn, the traitor, and the rebel," Antigone declared, gesturing to herself proudly as she said traitor.

"Sounds more like misfits to me," J.R. said cheerfully as they followed the group up several flights of stairs to the tallest tower.

They had to pay attention when the prefect alerted them to the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower. It was, as Clara's mother had read to them about, a bronze knocker in the form of an eagle. The eagle would ask a question and they would not be able to enter until they had solved the riddle it posed. The prefect answered the simple riddle it asked and the door swung open. As they entered the common room they were warned that the question was not always easy.

The warning passed Clara by, however, as she entered the vast, circular common room. The floors and ceiling were a rich, royal blue with stars adorning the ceiling. Floor to ceiling windows throughout the room would surely bring in the daytime light brilliantly this high up in the castle, and the flowing blue and bronze curtains that hung from the ceiling gave the place an airy feel. Where windows were absent on the wall, bookshelves took their place in a home that was surely meant for readers. Comfortable couches and armchairs arranged themselves in pods throughout the room, and a towering white statue stood guard in front of a small alcove. The prefect was leading the group towards this alcove, Clara realized.

"Who is that?" J.R. asked of the marble woman. She was lovely, with a flowing robe and diadem on her head.

"Rowena Ravenclaw, of course," Antigone answered. Realization dawned on J.R., he must have researched the founders as well.

"All right, first years, through this door you will find the stairs, the rooms are clearly marked," The prefect let them pass and begin their short trip up the staircase. The stairs seemed to turn sharply inward at first, as though winding around the domed ceiling of the common room, and then it turned into a spiral staircase, with doors every so often. The first landing they came to was the first year boys' dormitory, where they said goodbye to J.R. and five other boys. Then Antigone and Clara continued to the next landing with the four remaining girls, including Lydia.

"Here we are!" one of the other girls, a sharply featured auburn haired girl, said as she pushed opened the dormitory door. The six girls entered a circular room in which the door they had entered through was in the middle. Behind the door it was as though a fourth of the circle had been cut out for the bathroom and staircase from which they had just come, a door to the bathroom appeared to their left. Six beds hung from the ceiling. Clara stared.

"They're like hammocks…but beds!" a small black haired girl said brightly and the auburn haired girl rolled her eyes.

"How do we get up there?" Lydia mused, and the other girls glanced around for any type of ladder or rope. Clara, Antigone, and Lydia walked towards the three beds on the right side of the circular room. Each backed up to a shelving unit and was adorned with blue curtains that appeared to drop around the bed for privacy.

A squeak on the other side of the room alerted them to the tall blonde girl being nearly hit in the head with a set of stairs that magically unfolded from her bed's side.

"How did you do that?" Clara asked her. The blonde girl had regained her composure and quickly ascended her steps, which disappeared once she had seated herself on the bed.

"Read the side, there's a magic word!" She said, and the auburn haired girl looked flustered.

"I didn't see a word on your bed, Julia, and I was right next to you!" She said.

"Maybe only the bed's owner can see it," Mused Antigone, who had successfully unraveled her stairs from the bed between Lydia and Clara.

Clara looked up and sure enough, in bronze letters on the side of the swinging bed's wood frame, was the word _Phoenix_. Clara had an odd sense that she should not say the word out loud, but rather think it. No sooner had she thought the word did a set of stairs descend. She climbed them and they disappeared as she settled into the slightly swaying bed. It was a little wider than average, perhaps to ensure that the sleeper didn't fall off in the middle of the night. Clara decided not to dwell on this thought.

"This is wonderful!" Antigone laughed, lying back on her bed. The fluffy white duvet felt like a cloud and the ceiling was painted like the night sky, just as the ceiling in the common room had been.

By the time the girls had thoroughly explored their new home, they had learned the identities of their three other roommates. The tall blonde who had first discovered the mysteries of the hanging bed was Julia Heron, an athletic girl who was excited about the quidditch team tryouts. The small girl with Asian features was Whitney Chang, who seemed a bit spacey at times. The other girl, with straight auburn hair and pointed features, was Gwen Davenport. She was clearly competitive and already talking about the subjects they would be attending the next day.

"Does she have an off switch?" Antigone whispered to Clara as Gwen spouted off about the importance of doing well in Charms. Clara chuckled as she dug through her trunk for her pajamas. A small mew caught her attention and she looked up to see Luce staring at her from her basket.

"Oh Luce!" Clara said happily as she reached for the kitten, who purred once in her arms.

"You have a kitten?!" Antigone exclaimed, hurrying over to pet the little calico, "I have a tawny owl, Tori. But cats are so cute!"

"Thanks. My mum got her for me," Clara said. As soon as she said it she instantly became homesick for her quiet house in their little valley where old Crookshanks had so recently chased Luce around the kitchen.

Clara faked a yawn and carried Luce up to her bed, bidding good night to the others, "I'm exhausted, see you in the morning!"

As soon as the girls were all in bed, Clara drew her curtains down and took out a torch to write her mum. She would understand, probably better than anyone.

_Dear Mum,_

_I'm not sure how to start this letter. You may have already received several alarming letters from Rose and Hugo. I promise I'm quite fine. You see, I was not sorted into Gryffindor tonight. At first I was terrified of the thought of being in another house, but then as the sorting was going on I began to realize the only reason I wanted Gryffindor was because I wanted to fit in. The sorting hat said something to me that struck a cord. It said you were almost in another house, but you had a destiny in Gryffindor. It said that if I chose Gryffindor I could fit in with my family and nothing would change, or I could go to another house and have a destiny of my own, become Clara and not just another Weasley. So I guess I'm to blame for not being in Gryffindor, but honestly, and don't be upset, I've never felt more at home. I hope Dad isn't upset. I hope Grandmum isn't either. I don't want to disappoint anyone. I think Rose is concerned, and I'm sure the others are too. I wish they'd be ok with my not being in Gryffindor._

_I have met some great friends already, the two people I shared a compartment with ended up here as well! Antigone is in a similar situation as I am, but she wanted to be in a different house from the rest of her family. J.R. is a muggleborn, but has looked up a lot about Hogwarts. He is pretty outgoing. There's a girl called Lydia in our dormitory who is very nice as well. I suppose I should go to sleep now, I don't want to be tired on my first day of classes. I hope you and Dad aren't too disappointed that I'm not in Gryffindor; I'm honestly excited to start a new adventure that the older kids can't spoil for me._

_Love from,_

_Clara_


	5. Chapter 5: Familial Tension

A/N: I realize some details do not exactly match up with JK Rowling's account of what occurs "19 years later", such as the fact that I do not have Neville as the Herbology teacher (and the fact that Clara and Antigone do not technically exist...). I changed certain details to make the story flow. Might as well take this time to say I do not own HP! It is all from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling! Thanks and enjoy chapter 5!

Chapter 5: Familial Tension

Clara hadn't been able to fall asleep with her letter lying unsent on her shelf. So in the middle of the night she climbed down from her bed and shuffled over to Antigone's space. Because her friend's bed was so high she had to flap her curtains in order to wake her. The other girl woke groggily, but allowed her to use Tori to send the letter from one of the many windows. It was lucky for Clara that she had not sent her to the owlery yet.

At breakfast the next morning Clara avoided the concerned gazes of Rose and her cousin Lily as she sat down with Antigone, Lydia, J.R., and a boy J.R. had introduced as Benjamin Aiken.

"How about those beds," J.R. said immediately when the girls sat down, "I've never had a better sleep. It's like a rocker."

"They were pretty great," Lydia said, "How long did it take you lot to figure them out?"

"Definitely longer than it should have," Ben answered, "A few blokes tried to climb the shelves before J.R. here figured it out."

"You figured it out?" Antigone asked him in mild surprise. He flushed slightly.

"I suppose it makes sense the only muggleborn would figure it out, expecting everything to be magical." He reasoned logically. No more could be said on the subject because just then a great pack of owls swarmed the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages from parents. To Clara's surprise, Tori arrived carrying a letter with her mother's handwriting.

"That was fast," Clara said, taking a deep breath before unrolling the parchment.

Dearest Clara,

Don't think for a moment that Dad and I are unhappy about you not being a Gryffindor. On the contrary, I'm quite excited for you to get to experience something different! I always knew you were special, you are your own person and I'm glad the world will get to see that now. You won't be pressured to fit into the mold your siblings and cousins have set for you. Dad and I want to hear all about your first day of classes and all of your friends. Don't worry about the family, I will send Rose a letter and tell her to be happy for you and to pass on the message. I love you Clarity!

Love,

Mum

P.S. – Would you please tell us what house you're in? Dad is going spare…

Clara laughed out loud, earning a look from everyone but Antigone who had her head in her own letter.

"Sorry, its just, I had such a time explaining to my parents why I wasn't in Gryffindor that I forgot to tell them what house I was in!" She told them and they all laughed, except Antigone, "Antigone, mind if I borrow Tori again? Or would you like to respond to your letter with her?"

Antigone crumpled her letter in her fist and looked up at Clara with a cool control in her gray eyes, "Go ahead, I don't expect my parents will want a reply at all this year."

Clara glanced at the parchment in the other girl's hand. She suspected her parents were not as accepting of Antigone's sorting as the Weasleys were.

"Antigone…"

"Its ok Clara, really," She said in a softer voice, "Its not like I wasn't prepared for them to be upset. I just didn't realize Scorpius would get word to them so quickly."

"Well, if you want, you can come to holidays at my house!" Clara said in an attempt to cheer her friend.

"I'd like that a lot," Antigone smiled, "Mind if we share Tori, I'd like to write Aunt Andromeda."

"Of course! I just have a quick note to send my parents," Clara said, grabbing a napkin and scribbling one word before tying the napkin to Tori's leg.

RAVENCLAW!

Antigone seemed to cheer up by the time they walked to their first class of the day, Charms with the head of their house, Professor Flitwick. This class they had with only other first year Ravenclaws. Some subjects, such as Transfiguration, they had with other houses, like Gryffindor. They also shared Potions with Hufflepuff and Herbology with Slytherin. They had Herbology later that morning, and Clara could tell Antigone was dreading it.

"My cousin is in that class," She had confided to Clara when they received their timetables. Hopefully starting with a class full of Ravenclaws would help ease them into these stressful situations.

"Whitney and I were just talking about how excited we are to finally use our wands," Lydia told them as they joined the others outside of Flitwick's classroom.

"I used mine as soon as I could yesterday," Gwen said when she overhead this, "I wanted to practice so I'd be prepared for class. I've already managed to learn three spells."

Clara thought it was bold of Antigone to roll her eyes right in front of the bragging girl, but luckily Gwen didn't seem to notice.

"My wand is walnut, known to be possessed by intelligent wizards," Gwen bragged, yet she had touched on one of Clara's favorite topics.

"I assume it has a unicorn core? And it looks like its possibly rigid…" Clara mused, earning looks from the group.

"I like wands," She admitted shyly. Lydia drew her own, a long pale wand.

"Mine is beech, unicorn hair, eleven inches and flexible," Lydia said, reciting Mr. Ollivander's description no doubt.

"Beech? That's a fine wood," Clara said with admiration, "Given to the open-minded and kind, it can perform a rare artistry with wand work."

"Wow, Clara," J.R. said, "You know a lot about wands."

"They interest me," Clara shrugged. A throat cleared behind them and they turned to see Professor McGonagall. Clara felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the Headmistress up close.

"I'm glad to hear that Clara, wandlore is such an important part of our world," She said with a small smile, "I do hope you all pay attention in Charms today, its time to prove yourselves as our new batch of Ravenclaws. Good day."

As soon as she had come she left. The group of first years didn't have time to discuss it as Flitwick had flung open the door and was cheerfully ushering them in.

Charms had been pleasant, as Flitwick was beyond excited to greet his new Ravenclaws. They had practiced their first charm, the levitation spell. Clara gave a Weasley blush when she was praised as the first in the class to properly levitate her feather.

"Well done, Miss Weasley, well done!" Flitwick had chirped, "No doubt you have your mother's way with wands!"

Clara pretended not to notice Gwen's feather singe slightly as she frowned. Apparently the levitation spell was not one of the three she had learned. Eventually a number of feathers floated in the air and Clara and Antigone chased J.R.'s feather around the room.

"Excellent job today, Ravenclaws! No doubt another good crop from the most intelligent house at Hogwarts, but don't tell the others I said that! Can't show favoritism!" Flitwick said happily as he escorted them out the door, "Off to Herbology now!"

Antigone gripped Clara's arm as they stumbled down the hill towards the greenhouses. Clara knew it was not just to keep her from falling over a rogue tree root.

They entered the greenhouse and to their momentary relief discovered that the Slytherins had yet to arrive. Professor Sprout, a stout woman with white hair and an earthy complexion, briskly instructed them to gather supplies and sort themselves two to a pot. Clara didn't know what the pot was supposed to be, but for now it seemed like nothing more than a jar of dirt.

"Here they come," Antigone hissed over the large terra cotta planter. Clara looked through the slightly opaque windows to see a small mass of black and green robes marching down the hill towards them. As the first few entered it seemed as though they were normal students, laughing and chatting about Transfiguration, which had Clara wondering why they were worried in the first place.

Clara didn't have to wonder long. It was quite obvious when the group related to Antigone's family waltzed into the damp greenhouse. The first thing the black haired girl did was glare down Antigone, who amazingly smirked back at her cousin. The Slytherins on either side of her, a tall black girl with beautiful green eyes and a small muddy hair boy, seemed to give Antigone the same treatment. Clara and Antigone had tried to find a pot deep amongst the Ravenclaw group, but as they were so close together it was not hard for the Slytherins to taunt them.

"Persephone, I never thought blue was your color," The black haired girl sneered from behind them as the other Slytherins chose their planters.

"That's amusing Bianca, I always thought green was yours," Antigone replied, making Clara stifle her laughter as Professor Sprout spoke the group.

"Alright, settle everyone, if we all listen carefully today's lesson will be quick as a whip," she said, taking a grubby piece of paper from her pocket, "First order of business, the roster. When I call your name let me know who you are and if you go by a short name."

"Abbott, Benjamin… ah yes, Ben it is, Black, Phineas…figured it was Phin, Chang, Whitney…"

Sprout continued down her list and Clara continued to survey the Slytherins. They were hardly all bad. A few definitely seemed to be mocking Sprout or others in the class, but a number of them appeared to be just like her. Nervous on their first day of class, but excited to learn.

"Nance, Lydia… Nott, Gregory… ok, Greg… Malfoy, Persephone…"

"Here Professor Sprout, and I'm called Antigone."

Bianca gave a snort, but Professor Sprout looked up in surprise, taking in Antigone's blue and black robes, "A Malfoy in Ravenclaw, Antigone indeed."

The rest of their class passed by smoothly, with only a few minor scathing remarks from Bianca in Herbology. She hardly had time to jab at Antigone with the first assignment Sprout set them, planting Fidgety Fig seeds.

At lunchtime Rose had found Clara and apologized for not being excited for her placement in Ravenclaw and asked if they could spend some time together one afternoon that week. Clara had agreed and marveled at how fast her mum could work as her sister headed back to her table.

In the afternoon they had Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. This was the first time Clara would encounter the group of first years she nearly joined the night before. Unlike the Slytherins, the Gryffindor first years all seemed pleasant. They did not, however, match the level of attentiveness during the lesson that the Ravenclaw's possessed. It was obvious when their teacher, Professor Boot, asked them to transfigure a thread into a wire, that the Ravenclaws were slightly more adept to the task.

"What was the wand movement again?" a Gryffindor asked Antigone.

"There wasn't a wand motion…" She replied, glancing sideways at Clara and giving a small eye roll when the student turned back to his thread. Clara smiled. Maybe she really did fit in with Ravenclaw better.

That night Clara walked to dinner with J.R. and Antigone. Their first day of lessons had flown by, and they were busy discussing the day ahead.

"I'm actually excited about potions," J.R. said, "I know it's a Slytherin specialty, but the whole concept just seems cool. Kind of like medicine in the muggle world."

"My mum actually really enjoyed potions," Clara said, nodding, "I'm interested to see what we'll be brewing first."

"We have our first flying lesson tomorrow too!" Antigone piped up, grinning, "I love flying, we got to do some at my old school in our last year."

"That's all the flying you'll get to do Seph." A slick voice came from their left. Scorpius Malfoy, J.R.'s pursuer from the train and Antigone's older brother, stepped out from the shadow of a suit of armor. Clara and J.R. stepped back but Antigone stood her ground and crossed her arms.

"You don't have any authority over me," She said boldly to the sixteen year old, "Another benefit of being a Ravenclaw."

"Dad would never stand for you flying for a house other than Slytherin. You're lucky they didn't take you out of Hogwarts and send you to Beauxbatons." Scorpius hissed.

"I would never go," Antigone replied, standing her ground as the blonde boy towered over her, "Aunt Andromeda would take me in on holidays."

"So would we." Clara spoke up, finding a hidden courage she did not realize she had. Scorpius turned his gray eyes to Clara and sneered.

"Associating with a Weasley, Persephone? Mum and Dad will surely pull you out when they hear about this." He said, smirking.

"Run along to your beloved snake nest, Scorpius. If you'd like to pretend we're not related, be my guest," Antigone marched off toward the great hall and Clara and J.R. hurried to follow her before Scorpius could retaliate.

"I'm sorry Antigone," Clara said, "I hope I didn't make things worse!"

"Don't worry about it. They can't pull me out without my consent. They would have to forcibly remove me, and it's unlikely my father would want to cause such a scene now that he has his new reputation to protect," Antigone smirked sarcastically.

When they reached the Ravenclaw table, Antigone appeared as though nothing had occurred in the hall with her brother and chatted happily to Lydia about the following day's flying lesson.


End file.
